They'll Figure It Out
by WobblyJelly
Summary: They're merely two fifteen year-old, hormone-driven dorks, up to their ears with blush and their hearts hammering away in their chest. Oneshot


**Happy Kagehina day!**

**Disclaimer: I can't even hold a volleyball right.**

**PRETTY PRETTY COVER ART DONE BY MY TALENTED FRIEND CHECK HER OUT ON TUMBLR NOW: mishhe-kht**

* * *

When Hinata realized his feelings for the dark-haired setter, it came pummeling from the sky and straight into his aghast face in the form of a poorly received volleyball.

"Hinata, you idiot," kageyama growled at the poor boy sprawled all over the court, stomping over to him in a fine display of irritation. "Don't go spacing out like that. That's one point you've wasted, dumbass."

"Oi Hinata, you okay?" called Tanaka as him and the rest made their way over. "Your face is really red. How hard did the ball hit you?"

Their words merely faintly reached him, but they were easy to look past over the pounding in his ears, the burning flames on his cheeks, the heavy thumping in his chest.

He liked Kageyama Tobio.

And he felt as if he had stepped on a one way trip to death.

He found it in himself, a second too late, to glare at Kageyama for his completely unnecessary comment, stammering as he did so. "I- I know! I'll get it the next time!"

But he didn't. He didn't get it the second or the third time either. And by the fifth time his hands were trembling so bad that Daichi told him in the nicest voice he could muster to take a break for the time being.

His teammates figured that the previous blow to the head probably knocked out a couple of gears, made a few screws loose. They sent him sympathetic looks and gave him small pats on the back as he sat staring blankly at the court, eyes slackened, fiddling with his water bottle in his hands.

But he knew. Only Hinata knew the real reason why, and it made him want to tear his ears off and throw a volleyball straight into his own face again just to make himself _wake the fuck up._

He also knew, by the way he kept staring at Kageyama and focusing on only Kageyama whilst having his personal freak-out session, that he was one hundred percent gone and had absolutely no hope of recovery.

Kageyama became the only thing capable of being in his field of vision, even with both of his dazzling hazel eyes wide open and very much awake. Kageyama's voice was the only voice that reached his ears among the chatter and the boisterous commotion of his spirited (and blissfully ignorant) teammates. Kageyama's movements. Kageyama's aura. Kageyama's every breath and every drop of sweat that trickled down the sides of his face. Hinata was surrounded by anything and everything that was Kageyama and he felt euphoric yet absolutely traumatized at the same time.

He sat, thanking any semblance of a deity that Kageyama wasn't beside him now, bristling vigorously and fidgeting violently in his tiny spot, mentally thrashing himself to the death, all the while asking himself _why, why, why, why, why..._

But he knew perfectly well why.

It was the way Kageyama's intense concentration on the court made him insides both grow cold and yet burn up at the same time.

It was the way Kageyama made sure every toss sent his way was accurately calculated and perfectly executed, tossed straight into the palm of his hand with absolute precision. It was the way his palm ached with longing after spiking his, and only his tosses.

It was the way Kageyama dedicated himself to making Hinata feel invincible on the court. It was the way he succeeded.

It was the way he counted Kageyama to race him to school every morning, like a constant presence in his life, no matter how irksome it gets sometimes. It was the way breeze on his face and the adrenaline coursing through his veins made the grin on his face expand and his spirits soar.

It was the way Kageyama automatically bought two curry pork buns, even when Hinata didn't ask.

It was the way their arguments and competitions sent his veins pulsing with both anger and ecstasy.

It was the way his moments with Kageyama left him fired up, exhilarated.

It was the way Kageyama made him feel _electric_.

"Oi, Shouyou." Nishinoya plopped himself right beside him, patting him amiably on the back. "You alright? Your face is beet red."

And Hinata, in the midst of his daunting revelation together with his utter mental breakdown, buried his face into his own hands and moaned into his palm.

"I am going to die," he said, and he blatantly ignores the quirked eyebrow of his brightly animated senior.

* * *

When Kageyama finally came to acknowledge his ever burgeoning feelings for the redheaded shrimp, he kept banging his head on the wall in an attempt to whack himself unconscious.

When he was done, he supposed he felt a slight bit of blood trickle down the side of his disbelieving face. But when all he could think of was how good the short energy ball looked with his cheeks flushed red, high off adrenaline, that is the least of his worries.

He was feeling all sorts of new sensations he wasn't really very comfortable with feeling: his heart was racing, his bottom lip was trembling, his stomach was lit with a fire so fierce he was actually slightly intimidated. He felt both trapped and freed by his discovery, after weeks and weeks of avoidance and denial.

He liked Hinata Shouyou.

And there was no way getting out of this one.

The heads of the entire class turned to stare at him, awkwardly towering everyone else in his seat, watching him stagger and threaten to topple over. "Kageyama-kun," started his mathematics teacher uncertainly, one hand hovering over the blackboard and a textbook in the other. "Are you quite alright?"

He kept his face impassive. _I just realized that I liked some kind of energy magnet that isn't even capable of tying his shoelaces right sometimes. Do I look like I'm al-bloody-right? _"Yes sir," he simply replied, slamming himself back into his seat with much unneeded force, praying that his cheeks weren't betraying him and portraying exactly how he felt like in his quivering chest.

People tentatively shot him glances of curiosity, but didn't pry more into his sudden act of self-destruction. He spent the rest of his class sending piercing death glares at innocent birds that passed by their classroom window. His head throbbed, his eyebrows were furrowed, and he felt like throwing up. He felt that weird clammy feeling in his chest again and wanted to launch himself off the school roof for acting like such a _girl_.

He wasn't a stranger to love. He knew the symptoms. He knew the chest tightening and the stomach squelches. He knew the elevating feeling or happiness and utter stupidity when he was even within a 10 metre distance of that _fucker. _He just didn't want to understand, couldn't bring himself to understand, why, of all the people in this goddamn world, did it have to be _that _big red ball of idiotically bright sunshine?

But he knew perfectly well why.

It was the way Hinata's stubbornness, unfaltering determination and hunger for challenges, sparked an indescribable fire within him.

It was the way Hinata's constant calls of "one more!" never failed to send a shiver down his spine.

It was the way Hinata drew something out of him, takes away his breath with every jump, every spike. It was the way every time Hinata spiked one of his tosses, he couldn't help feeling an immense satisfaction flood his body.

It was the way Hinata knew what brand of milk Kageyama always got at the vending machines even if he never had to tell him.

It was the way Hinata constantly bounced into his life with that infuriating smile of his, no matter what day, with the sunshine practically radiating off his back.

It was the way Hinata always had him on his toes, set his spirits aflame.

It was the way Hinata had him _absolutely intoxicated._

He let out a strangled grunt and smashed his head into the wall again.

"Ahh- Kageyama's gone cold!"

"Somebody, get a teacher!"

"O-oi, Kageyama, get your shit together! Kageyama!"

* * *

When the two boys finally stop beating around the bush and come face to face with each other, faces flushed to the brim in startling scarlet, it's when the team finally has enough.

"We're not letting you out of this room until you guys stop being such unicellular idiots!"

"We're not letting you participate in practice either until you guys admit your undying love for each other!"

"Y- you can't do this! Asahi-san, help me!"

"I'm sorry, Hinata-kun."

The both of them were too embarrassed to look at each other, and yet pulled by an inexplicable desire to watch the other flounder in their position. They couldn't hear each other over the pounding of their own hearts, but somehow, they still know what the other person is thinking.

Hinata Shouyou likes Kageyama Tobio.

And Kageyama Tobio also likes Hinata Shouyou.

Kageyama was shakily walking over to a uncharacteristically silent Hinata, each step emphasizing his nervousness, bringing him closer to a new side of himself he never even wanted to consider.

Hinata sat stock still in his position, unable to tear his eyes away from Kageyama, both scared of and entranced by these feelings he never even knew was capable of existing.

The two of them were young, energetic, ambitious, rowdy, temperamental, unrestrained, uproarious.

The two of them were the best team out there, and yet a complete hot mess.

The two of them were simply fifteen year-olds, obsessed with volleyball and stupidly in love.

And for once, they weren't questioning why.

Because, with the two of them at opposite sides of the room staring at their shoes and twiddling their thumbs, they knew perfectly well why.

It was the way how perfectly coordinated they were on the court, and how poorly coordinated they were off the court.

It was the way Hinata dragged Kageyama away to eat together during lunch, and the way he willingly went with him.

It was the way Hinata's flamboyant and bubbly nature made Kageyama want to smile and yet smack him at the same time.

It was the way Kageyama's stoic nature softened when he was around the great red energy ball, and how Hinata instantly became slightly happier when he was around the abrasive, expressionless rock.

It was the way they sometimes brushed shoulders against each other's on the court.

It was the way they argued about almost everything, even when they knew what the other party was thinking.

It was the way they look at each other after Hinata's spiked one of Kageyama's tosses.

It was the way they both wanted to stay like this, the way they were now, forever.

And perhaps, somewhere along the line, there'll be a few mishaps and misunderstandings, a few heartaches and tears, a few cries of desperation and desolate sighs. Perhaps, sometime in the future, they'd need to look for more than volleyball as their driving force, and delve into a more serious point in their lives. They will grow, and they will learn, and they will understand what it truly means to be together with the one you love.

But for now, they're merely two fifteen year-old hormone-driven dorks, up to their ears with blush and hearts hammering away in their chest, and it's this way they know- they'll have a whole lifetime to figure it out.

* * *

**A/N: Small fic I decided to bust out for Kagehina day. I know I'm late though, I'm sorry.**

**And yes, the ending is really sloppy. I was rushing it. It's not a good excuse, but it's the best I can give right now.**

**Leave a review if you so please. See you guys in the next fic (planning is in process already, so stay tuned!)**

**(I am so in love with this couple you have no idea)**


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